


saudade

by corngoblin



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Crying, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, No Fluff, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corngoblin/pseuds/corngoblin
Summary: saudade - portuguese term used to describe a melancholic longing for a person or thing.george fucked up
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	saudade

lying in his fluffy comforter, george turns towards his window. watching raindrops race each other down the glass and listening to the low distant rumble of thunder.

it is 6AM; an hour where the normal people of london would just be waking up; getting dressed, eating breakfast, going to work, and doing the other normal things normal folk do. george just laid down. 

another rumble of thunder accompanies a bright flash of lightning. a slight breeze slips its way through the cracked window, twisting towards george’s cocoon of warmth. george shivers, clutching the fabric of his sheets as he curls his body around himself. he lets out a deep sigh as he closes his eyes tightly.

nothing is right anymore, george thinks.  
nothing is the same and it’s all my fault.

peaking his eyes open he looks around the room. to the gray sky outside and to the blank blue walls of his bedroom. he stares at the ceiling, fighting the thick lump in his throat as he feigns sleep. he thinks and thinks. his mind running in circles and then back again. his bottom lip fights a quiver.

dream. he thinks.  
he is all george can think of. 

rolling onto his back this time he whispers to himself softly - barely uttering a sound, using his lips to form the words he wishes he could say out loud. 

except he can’t. and now it's too late.

dream, i love you. george mouths to the ceiling.

hot tears spring to his eyes and he clamps his hand to his mouth. a sob chokes out of him, lips wobbling. the painful lump in his throat breaks free as he stifles sobs into his palm. 

a fuck up!! george screams violently in his head.  
george. ever the fuck up!

singeing tears race down his temples and pool into the shells of his ears, dripping down his throat. the crying won’t stop. his face is hot and definitely red, slick-wet with snot and tears. his nose clogs up and he’s forced to huff in and out of his mouth inefficiently, only worsening his breakdown. 

he thinks back to a week or two ago, to the fun times he had with dream. george thinks of the long discord calls and the sleep calls. to the texts in direct messages without any others to interrupt them. 

george thinks about how dream is known for being a poor responder to dms. as he chooses who to respond to ranked by friendship level. except george always receives a text back within 0-15 minutes, never more unless dream was sleeping. 

george clenches his teeth. and contorts his face showing off his internal pain.

he thinks to the numerous “i love you, george’s” that were scoffed at. did dream finally have enough? was he sick of the unrequited mutual love a normal friendship contains? george will never know. 

how did he mess this up? what did he do? they had plans to meet in the future. plans to move in with each other. what happened?

he wipes the tears pooling at the base of his neck and in his ears. aggressively rubbing his face to rid himself of the sticky wet tear tracks. except the tears continue to fall. 

dream and him are still friends.

but are we best friends? george whispers to the cracked ceiling. 

dream never messages him anymore, no silly memes or stupid thoughts. no more soft giggles and beating hearts. no more blushed faces or late night calls. george misses dream. 

george shutters again, a strong sob. the rain continues to pour as if in tune with his emotions. the thunder rumbles through georges chest, reaching deep into his heart. 

why does he not message me anymore. why does he leave when everyone else leave the call. what happened to the sleep calls, the day long calls, the one minute burping contest calls? georges mind races pitifully. 

turning back to his left side he stares at the swaying trees, blurred by the droplets on the glass. 

he doesn’t love me anymore. i fucked up… 

george picks up his phone, as a last flicker of hope washes through him. 

no notifications show up on his lock screen except the one twitch notification from dreamwastaken “minecraft w/ friends.” dream is up, talking to his friends. not with george though. george didn’t get a poke or dm. nothing.

i'm sorry dream. i love you. (i’m sorry i never said it before... cause i really fucking love you)

i’m sorry.


End file.
